Newmarket

This morning we had our first rainstorm since getting here. I looked outside and the sky was a strange yellowish color and covered with clouds. I thought it was about to start raining. The next time I looked up, it was pouring. But it only lasted for about five minutes, and then it was all over and everything quickly dried out.
Farida’s cousins (who live in Dhaka) came over to visit and go with us to Newmarket. There were four of them: one woman and her 2 ½ year old son, a girl about our age who was in the university, and a guy who was slightly older than us. Only the two who are our age spoke any English at all, but we were able to communicate through their small amount of English and our small amount of Bangla. Besides Farida, the people who went to Newmarket were all beginners: Justine, Noboko, and me. Farida’s male cousin was able to arrange two CNGs to take the whole group to Newmarket for a really good price. Farida got into one with her cousins, and her male cousin sat with the driver in ours. CNGs are basically small green metal cages on wheels, with the driver in front and room for three people in back. They’re really hot and the fumes from the gas engine behind the passengers can be overwhelming. However, they are the best long-distance private transport in the city. They can just be a little frightening.
Newmarket was worth the journey. We went to a sari (in Bengali, shari) store first. The salesmen really wanted to sell an expensive sari to the bideshis, and they must have pulled forty out for us. Sari stores have a special design. Stacked along three walls are saris, with a raised platform covering half the open space by the sari-covered long wall and little red stools lined up beside it. We sat on the stools while they showed us sari after sari, and eventually we had to walk out because they were so intent on selling a sari to us. I do want to buy a sari sometime this summer, but I really didn’t see any I liked. Also, I didn’t have the money to buy one.
We walked down the street and came across stalls selling fabric for salwar kameez. They came in matched sets of fabric cut appropriately for the piece (salwar, kameez, orna) and were the fixed price of 350 taka. Since this is the ordinary way to get a salwar kameez, it is a lot less expensive than buying a pre-made one. Each of the pieces are decorated appropriately for a completed salwar kameez: decoration around the neck, different patterning on the legs, etc. I bought two from different stalls: one that is blue and pink, and another that is green and off-white/tan. I’m going to a tailor in Noddabajar sometime next week to get them made. Buying these fabric sets was an interesting experience, because I knew just enough Bangla to express what I wanted. This made me realize that I am functional in Bangla in a very, very limited capacity, which is very rewarding since I knew absolutely no Bangla a week before. 3 days of class and I can already competently shop on my own (for fixed price goods).
Farida then went to look at a nearby shoe store and bought a pair of sandals. Everyone was really hot by this point, so we went into an air-conditioned diner that was next door. There were two next to each other, and their proprietors were vying for our business, yelling “Madam! Madam!” at us. It’s strange to be singled out so much, but bideshis can’t avoid it here. We’re far too obvious, since there are so few foreigners in the country. Farida’s family had already gone into one of the diners, so we followed them inside. The eating area was upstairs. We ordered soft drinks, and they came in cans that were taller and thinner than American cans. It then became photo op time with the bideshis, when Farida’s family decided to take a lot of pictures. We then walked toward the exit of Newmarket, and stopped in a store selling jewelry and things. I made the mistake of pointing at a hair clip that was pretty, and had to explain that I really didn’t need it in the little Bangla I know. The storekeeper kept lowering his price trying to get me to take it, but I really didn’t want it. I need to watch that next time I’m in a store. As we were leaving the bazaar I saw a stall selling really pretty silk ornas in different colors for 150 taka, and bought a purple one. Outside on the street was a book stall, where I stopped and asked for Harry Potter. They first offered it to me in English, but I asked for Bangla and they pulled out the entire series in Bangla. I decided to buy Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, which is my proudest purchase in Bangladesh.
It took a long time for Farida’s cousin to find CNGs that were willing to take us back to Baridhara. Eventually he found two, and we left the same way we came. On the way back I saw something interesting: we passed a mosque that was in the middle of prayer, and there was a whole crowd of men who had spread their prayer rugs in the street. I got a great picture out the window of the CNG.
That night we went to a small restaurant called Café Mango, which is located around the corner from Noddabajar. It’s a very Americanized place, and there were several other bideshis there. I had a delicious piece of chicken with garlic butter and vegetables, and tried a mango lassi for dessert. A lassi is fruit juice, yogurt, and milk mixed together. Very refreshing.